Its not about bike..

I am at a roadside “Dhaba”, on Delhi-Mathura Highway.
The milestone reads “Delhi 107 Km”….
It seems I am far away from the noisy traffic and the city city bang bang …
I looked at my sexy red beauty …..
Naaaaah!!!You people are still hopeful for me !!!!
Its my new “Royal Enfield Thunderbird” yaar.
Whenever I see it, it gives me assurance, “Keep moving, I m with you.”
Each time I see it, it rejuvenates the biker in me.
Now within few weeks it has become a part of my body and the thoughts.
Together, we have covered hundreds of miles and, thousands yet to be covered.

Let us start some traveling down the memory lane.
I used to be desi member of “The Man, The Machine..The Street Hawk” cult.
Jessie Mach, cruising in LA streets with top speed of 300 MPH fighting against crime,
He inspired me to be a good cop after studies. Though later the truth of life and newspapers made me realize that you need honesty than a bike to be a good cop. My mother rejected the idea of having my own motorbike by putting the all time favorite reason of the century,” Bikes are dangerous.”


{
I know still there are some of you who would have jumped by the name of street hawk. Please do visit http://www.streethawkonline.com/ for more info.
Knight rider was another favorite during doordarshan era.
http://www.tv.com/knight-rider/show/572/summary.html
}

Then after few years I came to watch movie,” Jo jeeta wohi sikander.” This time Sanjay lal from modern college was my hero. The sport rivalry, last bike competition and the sexy legs of Pooja Bedi were few of eye catching things in the movie. This time I got my “Hero Ranger”( definitely male with straight handle), which I remember I kept on riding in noons and evenings. I tried all the stunts on it, injured many times, raced with schoolmates many times, but couldn’t get any prize in any competition but haan stood 3rd in slow biking competition once :)

So the days passed by and the biker inside went on sleep. During College days, got the chance of riding different bikes. I rode most of them, Yamaha Rx135, Yamaha Rx100, CBZ, Splendor, Suzuki samurai, caliber( I rode pulsar after my college days).Yamaha was my favorite one during those days. Easy to control and cruise in traffic. Those were the days when my classmates used to go on date with bike borrowed from others. Then few of theorems were followed ardently in college,
1)
“Whenever you borrow bike from your friend, always get the tank filled not more than Rs. 30.”[This figure varies from person to person, sometimes drop down to Rs 10 even ]
2)
“Whenever you return the borrowed bike from your friend, always tell him that you got his tank filled.” [Never let your good deeds wasted :)]
3)
“Always get the girl first, bikes can be arranged.”[India have very poor male: female ratio and very good male: bike ratio.]
4)
“If you have any idea to purchase a bike, opt for 2nd hand first, because bikes are fu**** by guys more in college than any other pairs [like students by exams, hostellers by mess, girls by ???? Sorry guys, wrong guess! They are not their boyfriends]
So the college again gave few of the breaths to the Jessie inside.

Then Trinity [Matrix Reloaded] came in my life. She rode the ducati with such a control that my adrenaline rose with speed double than that of ducati.I was stunned by beauty, speed and the royal black color binding both of them.
So each time a the cranking sound of engine, the driving motions, the air moving down ears, a long straight highway attracted me. There was a biker deep down, who wanted to ride over, wanted to explore new sights. And finally wish has been fulfilled.
I purchased my Royal Enfield Thunderbird two weeks back after a little research on internet for a suitable bike according to my passion, not by needs. As I never felt the need of bike in my life, its all about “Jessie Mach”, “SanjayLaal” or “Kabir”[ Dhoom] inside :).

Aha…. my tea is finished. So its time to go now…

Just a little force on the kick…
“Thak-Thak-thak-thak…”
Yeah, now we both have our hearts pounding insync.We share resonance.
I understand its language…believe me …if you too want to, just concentrate on the cranking sound of engine.



A long wide charcoal line is waiting to be ripped by my beast.
The horizon is challenging to be touched and the landscapes are waiting to be captured in memories.
Okie will meet all of you at some other place, some other dhaba…....
Finally life is long journey with so many crossroads...And each one of us just has to walk without staying anywhere...
Till then “Shabba Khair”!!

An Old Jeans, An Old Friend

This Diwali I had been to home town after 5 months. For last couple of years I hardly have spent more than a month in my town. I was waiting for these moments. When Few Eyes which had been fixed at the doors for last few months got glance of mine, smiles appeared smugly on faces. A lot many voices were heard after a long in my porch.Sparows, crows and other common birds were also astonished by such an unusual thing in their surroundings. So many people suddenly!!!!That day we were chirping instead of 'em :)

As it was diwali, every one had an enthusiasm of cleaning and decorating home. Mumma was busy in “mithai” and sis was busy in cleaning and decoration. I too tried to put little efforts like a drop in an ocean [U know I am an incorrigible guy].

I opened my trunk after dusting it.
A “Rough and Tough “jeans and an old phone diary with faded ink on yellowish pages........
There was a hole in the jeans and there were some crossed numbers in the diary.....
Both of them revived the memories from a dark corner.
Sometimes as the time passes; some losses, some arguments, some distances, some quarrels, some attempts; also transforms into a smile with tears in eyes on a face.

The jeans got spoiled when I once tried to hid ciggrate from papa.
And Friends………… ??
I don’t know….
Infact I tried to get a good reason why I moved so away from few of them, but I couldn’t.
I never had any major argument or fight in my any of relation but still so much distances....
May be its time which sets the equations in life and relations.

I was not sure if they were still in bikaner or not.I got Addy’s number.. haven’t talked to him for last 10 years since 9th class.He was a fun loving guy and our all time favourite "bakra" during school days.My fingers pressed few buttons on the telephonic keypad.I could not recognize his voice but got an impression that he would be much healthy an stronger guy now by his hoarse voice.I talked to him 35 minutes, got all kinds of masala news of whos who "maal" of our school days,our teachers and "chimpu" public. I always keep myself updated in current affairs :)
When I put down the receiver finally, it was a blissful experience of the passed by moments.
It was like my life's old TV which was contented in Doordarshan frequencies was happy now to catch Cable frequencies now :)
so many masala news..

I again put on my jeans. Tough it was old, faded and with a patch but still I was looking good in it.I had talked to my old buddy; he was a lost friend but i was feeling good to catch him again.Probably I am not like many of other people who believe in changing relations like attires.I too like to make new friends but I hold my old faded attires and old good friends in my life, atleast in my trunk and in my diary respectively :0


Anyways
HAPPY DIWALI Dosto
:)

The Orkut War

Yesterday while orkutting [which is quite in-fashion these days and the only thing I joined b4 it goes out-fashion], I came across a community named, “I hate India”.

It reminded me of a reference on the web which says,“The origin of the word "community" comes from the Latin munus, which means the gift, and cum, which means together, among each other. So community literally means to give among each other.”
lemme guess …
okie I got it ....so nowadays we are gifting hate that is why named it over Hate
Coooooool …

It was new to me, so I hit the return key to find more on “hate India”.I found few more,”I hate India and her people”, “I hate F**king India”,“I hate the community, I hate India”, “I hate those who hate India.”

I found myself wet with the peoples’ emotions. So finally, I have found hundreds of people who really love their nation, their entity, their freedom that they have the courage to stand against a whole nation. Aha finally I have found the freedom fighters….Rebel,Patriots …..of the century???

But I could not find the motive of double pointer like “I hate those hate India”. These double pointers always make others confused. Is it counterattack, or mutual-inductive patriotism??Anyways everybody is free to express itself according to article 14; I am no one to raise any question. Infact Airtel in their ad campaign also is encouraging for freedom of expression.

Curiously, I checked few threads there to know about the people and their psychology, their complaints, intensity of hate and the message and motive for building a community on the base of hate. I came across messages full of desi-slangs which made me nostalgic about college. I found it an arena of Indo-Pak verbal war. Good finally I found that what has kept India and Pakistan kept away from using nukes on each other. Orkut.com has become the best battle field and I salute the people who are fighting with such an enthusiasm and patriotism making even soldiers shameful who are just having fun on the snow clad peaks.

Cool, really Information technology has redefined everything on the planet. Imagine, we in future may be having war with aliens also on Orkut’s verion 11Beta or something like that. Scrapbooks having scraps from both battalions:

Homo Sapiens: “Hey you Martians, we are so much in number that if we piss off at ur planet, you will be flown away in the space….you senseless creatures.”

Martians: “you bloody humans, don’t forget once this blue planet was also our part. You are living on our mercy.”
Wow!!! Wonderful …similar kind of fight but with aliens.

Some people complained that these communities are spreading message of hate. But I have different view on such things. I am not defending anybody. But building such community has at least provided a proper channel and platform where people can release their frustration, anger, dismay, hate and failure. At least they have not united together to form any terrorist associations.Atleast few more people have not been died in serial blasts or riots. I found the threads full of abusive language and slang. In an internet article on slang psychology; I read that most of the slangs originated from jails. Can you think why???Yeah it were the same people who were kept behind bars and given emotional, psychological and physical torture. While seeing profiles of the people at these communities, either these people are full of time and nothing to do or they have witnessed some kind of ill treatment by conditions, people, religion or the system.
And now they are yelling at such forums so that others can listen to their crap which is totally not related to whole mass. They suffered due to single entity but now blaming the whole system and making it responsible for their disaster. And I think they will stop raising their voices as soon as they are done with their so called “cyber-revenge “or “cyber-zehad”.

In fact I myself many times have yelled all “Maa-Bhen” chants when got frustrated waiting in any queue or system failure. Many times I myself have abused the whole administrative system due to rudeness and ego of “sarkari babus and clerks “.

Now if we talk about” Hate India”,” Love India” or “hate Pakistan”, I will say that I m not hurting anybody’s emotion but please let me know how do you define Your India or Your Pakistan. India is not 100 crore people, its not only old civilization, historic monuments, Rivers, Himalayas, Ayurvedas, Temples, churches, mazjids, mixes-ins of cultures , Curries , cuisines. It’s not only Corrupted System, its world’s largest software market along with BPO also. It has millions of ingredients, it's not a single entity. Similarly for Pakistan, it’s not only ISI or their spinners or terrorist training camps but a lot of beautiful things. So hating India means one just hates to keep its ego at the peak neglecting the beauty of all those millions of its ingredients. I too love my nation but I don’t need to prove it. Its in my thought, flowing in my veins. But it’s really true that I hate few of its rotten things and love a lots of others.Better to find out that entity which has aroused those strong emotion of hate or love instead of the whole nation or group.

Finally I strongly believe only love can be spread. Hate is so inflammatory, that the carrier itself can’t carry it longer, to pass it on to others.Ok enough gyan!!! Meanwhile you can explore other dimensions and reasons of such cyber psychologies. Here is another link
http://www.rider.edu/suler/psycyber/badboys.html
and then for another interesting orkut war
Avinish Vs Ranjana-D Orkut war

Hey, I have found Riya on orkut, my school friend till 10th standard. She used to be gorgeous. Okie bye..lemme do some scrapping !!! njoi :)

IDay

Another 15th August!!

Another holiday for millions of this nation….

A date for thousands of Indians…

Lots of textbooks showing the significance of the events around it...

A drop of tear in eyes of many bereaved ones who lost their ages serving the nation…

A smile on some faces dipped in celebration..

A sense of missing somebody very dear one, for another thousand Indians...

Naming few more circles, streets and institutions on the name of forgotten heros....

“Motichoor ka Laddo “in some little hands …..

Some voices struggling to be in chorus under tricolor…

Sale Bonanzas in some places ….

An oration from head of State, full of Promises and unrelated achievements ...

Flotilla of white ambassdors on the roads of capitals...

Some channels with Mr. Bharat, Nana Patekar or Sunny Paaji flicks…

Few more medals in the head of achievers of the our society,nation, who have held our head high..i donno where but they have ...

Some intellectulas debating over the future of the nation on some channels...
Other intellectulas debating over the past of this nation, divison and the role of chachaji and Bapu ji of the Nation....

And finally the whole nation which still has to get remaining independence ...which it is fighting for last 50 yrs..[I think we have accustomed ourselves of gaining evrything in installments]
We, the people are still slaves .. i don't want to remind you again all those bloody problems which we yet have to overcome...

The defintion of the IDay Celebration varies for all of us...

For me its ?????I think its another day for me ..i don’t know …I just pay my silent homage to all freedom fighters with the morning….just try to inhale the breath deeply and feel the freedom in the atmosphere…but I can’t distinguish the difference of the day from another ordinary ones!!!May be i lack some patriotism
But Still I wish Happy Independence Day to all of you :)

Another blogger!

Few months back, incidents, surroundings and people around me, started leaving an impact on me. Whatever happening around me entered through eyes and ears and then kept filling inside me. It kept on accumulating for few days, weeks and then months. Finally I started feeling their pressure in my head. They were bombarding each dimension of my thought, opinion and attitude. When there remained no space for any another thought and the memories began disturbing me and break my concentration. I gave a spark of thought to all those faded scenes, memories, experiences, echo, faces, incidents and shadows in my mind. I left them blazing for few days.

Now again I was feeling the heat of it for next few days, it was probably the fumes by the blaze. When experiences and sufferings burn inside the grey matter intensely, they make the surroundings hot and produce the fuming of ideologies. Sometimes this heat of soul had brought revolutions, it has snatched thrones from emperors, has created historical personalities and gods of nation. It has taken lives of millions too. It was the result of heat by ignited minds. So this time it was me who was feeling it but differently, not intense enough to raise the soul of whole nation.

Then one day it was not bearable. A white screen of textpad in front of me grabbed my attention. The whiteness was looking at me; I listened it babbling .I put my fingers on keyboard and spread ashes over white screen; the ashes of the thoughts, experience and the memories which have been flowing in the viens . Few moments later it shaped itself in dark letters.

Finally something evolved out on the whiteness; people called it a blog ….
And me .....another blogger in the crowd!!! :)

Main Zinda Hoon!!!

“For every action, there is equal and opposite reaction”.
This law defines the most fantastic behavior of matter and mass.
Since my school days, I have found the third law of Newton’s Laws of motion most practical and most happening. It is a part of each one of our lives. The reaction coming out of you proves that you have witnessed the action & have acted upon it. It does not matter whether how much do you react, the lawful and obvious part is that you should react.Its Nature’s Law. The intensity of the reaction is decided upon by a lot many factors, for e.g. sometimes you act wildly to prove yourself in an argument or somebody strikes you when you are in extreme pressure and hurry and sometimes you loses all of your anger when you see tantrums of your 3 yr old son.

But the eternal truth says that if you react, you are part of this very world, otherwise you have renounced this world either physically or mentally. A glass breaks into hundreds of pieces when forced upon but on the other hand an elastic elongates when stretched. So the reaction depends on the nature of the matter. We also behave in a similar manner in our day to day life. Sometimes we accommodate ourselves according to the force and thus survive and sometimes we break down against circumstances.

I still remember my school days when lots of text on the pulp taught us how to act and how to react. “Never tolerate injustice “, “Always speak truth” or “Fight for your rights”. I was on the third last row, corner seat, rephrasing teacher’s words with all of my classmates. Now on the crossroads of life, I hardly remember when I would have followed those texts, those white chalk written characters by Miss Dolly D’Souza (my English teacher). They had lost their importance in the darkness of the blackboard. The darkness of life is more intense which washes out the whiteness of truth.

Now I think I have adapted myself with the world. I have learnt to accept things, circumstances, situations and system without changes. I have heard people saying,” If you want to remain in the system, why do you fight against it. Come on lets be part of it.” Others were saying, “Yaar, life is too short to react against this Monster System. Your little effort will hardly move it by an inch.” All the spiritual gurus too have told me,” Everything you do has already been destined". So why to fight yaar, Why don't we accept the things as it is our destiny?

So I have known to remain silent .I am enjoying life now. I used to get shocked reading obituaries, accidents, terrorist attacks or riots. But now I have known to turn over such “idiotic” pages. Newspapers do have a lot of important news like apparel malfunctioning of top Indian model, why to skip that?

I have learnt to be blind and deaf when a girl is raped in the country.I have learnt to avoid casting vote as I don’t have guts to change the politics of this nation though I hate it. I have learnt to remain in queue. I have learnt to give some gifts to seniors and administrators whenever I want my work done.I have learnt to dissipate my frustration through sweat in local buses and trains with just 12-15 inch place for foot.I have stopped to compete for the best opportunities in life as all of them are already reserved and I don’t want to reserve my life too in the name of “struggle for rights”.I have forgotten all kind of courtesy or morals. Because it were they who used to make my blood boil, but now I have learnt to “Chill out “, dude!! I am a “Cool Dude” now!!

Whenever I go to any disco or pub I don’t remember those ugly dirty faces of beggars and child laborers. I don’t know why they are here in this world to spoil its beauty.I think now I have become a Gen-X guy. I have accepted the system in its original form. Though it is distorted, but now I am fully ready. The system won’t be able to make me react wildly. I can handle all the strokes of it gently. I think I will be able to survive according to Darwin. But some times a question arises, “Am I Alive?” “kya main zinda hoon?”
“kya Aap Zinda hain?????”(Are you Alive???)

Seat Wale Baba

The Unavoidable is temporary, but the learning is lasting!!!
( The fifth Mountain, Paulo Cohelo)

Seat Wale Baba
Yesterday it was Sunday, so I thought why not meet up with my friends in Delhi. It had been ages since I had met them. They had started thinking that I have become some mendicant or left the world while serving this holy world.I got ready at 10:30am.After reaching the bus stand, caught a DTC bus for New Delhi Railway station.
Could not found anything raunchy in bus!!!
Bus was almost full!!!
No vacant seat for me, I felt a bit dejected, 45 minutes of journey & that too standing!!!
life sucks!!
Few eyes gazed me and mine explored the whole bus for some tonic for mysore eyes, but didn’t find anything worthy of it.

Suddenly an old man, around 65 or so, dressed in white kurta- pajamas with white Pagadi stood and offered me his seat. I was surprised to say the least, didn’t react for quite some time. ”puttar baith ja”[ sit down dear], he said again.
Being the well manner guy, I declined and said, “Arrey nahi uncle aap baitho”[ no need for it Sir, you sit ].
Conductor broke the conversation and said to me with a smile, “Bete baith jao, Yeh Seat wale baba hai, Inke paas hamesha dosro ke liye seat rehti hai” [Sit down dear, he is known as “Seat donor” in this route] and turned his face to the noble man.
I was entranced by the greatness of the person, I simply obeyed.
The person beside me further elaborated “He is traveling for 5 yrs on this route and in his presence nobody keeps standing in the bus number 713”.I was spellbound. No reaction could pay my regards to his greatness.( Its not heroic deeds that makes someone great. It is small gestures like this that speak volume about a persons character & that is what makes someone great. )
Now I was looking outside the window without any thought. I noticed the sound of some tape recorder now.
“Babu moshai”. Ohhh it is Anand Singhal, so it was the dialogues cassette of Anand movie, my favorite one.Coool!!
The driver had a good taste, hummm!!
So I was just enjoying the journey.
I was observing the view outside.. the market, tall buildings, broad roads, paced life.
Globalization has changed India too. Now poor also can think beyond bread at least.
But still I believe that it has not reduced the drift between the two, rich and poor. It is in fact widening.

As we were to leave Noida, bus stopped in front of an Engineering institution.
All eyes fixed were at the gate, mine too!!
1.., 2…ahha cool and finally 3 gals stepped in, so finally got something to keep mind and eyes cool in such an intense summer.
I was just enjoying God’s beautiful creation when suddenly the Seat wale baba, stood up again and made them seated.
Shit!!! These old people can never understand our emotions and needs!!
Oh God what sin have I done??? I felt a bit frustrated and wave of rage for the old, forgetting his kindness made just a moment ago.
Again looking outside, enjoying the sceneries.
“Mein ek ek pal marna nahi chahta”, recorder was still on. (Anand is one of the most touching movie i ever watched.)
As soon as our bus entered Delhi, I took a cursory glance inside the bus.
It was silent. Beauties were also missing.
The only person standing in the bus now was Seat wale baba. I again felt a feeling of respect for him.
I thought either he was suffering from some kind of psychological imbalance or he had gone through some tragedy; otherwise I hardly remembered seeing any person who treats other people and that too strangers so well.
I again turned my face to look at the passing by scenery.

Suddenly I felt a thrust and I took support tightly and tried to keep the balance but still collided with the front seat.
The driver had braked in full force. I watched outside, two children were running.
Shit yaar!!God saved them!!
Then I looked inside where the sound had increased suddenly.
Bus had stopped. The driver stood up at his seat. Conductor was yelling at him.
Near driver’s seat, I saw, Seat wale Baba lying. He had lost his balance probably.
The conductor said in a broken sound, “he is dead”.
!!!!!!!!???????
I was in a shock.
People were whispering among themselves.
Someone yelled, “He got head injury”.
Many had boarded in other buses to avoid any kind of trouble.
Few had gathered around the dead, still discussing on how to take him to hospital. I had not gained the momentum.
Two drops rolled down. The recorder was still on.
“Zindegi aur maut uparwale ke haath me hai Jahanpanah, use na to aap badal sakte hai na main. Hum sab to rangmanch ki kathputlia hai jinki dor uparwale ke haath me bandhi hai, kaun, kab, kaise, uthega koi nahi bata sakta.” [ Life and death are in HIS hands, noone can change them. We are just puppets, having our strings in HIS hands only. Who , how and when will be fectched up, noone can predict.]
The words kept echoing for a few minutes.
The oldie was dead but the world was at its pace and kept moving on, and will remain ever always, as it has always.

Thank God Its Sunday

I came to this sector in delhi some one month back.
It’s cool and a very silent place with mostly Punjabi families living all around.It’s about the time when I was new to this place, I had not gained any friends, just had a few acquaintances.

It was 7:45 in the morning; I had just prepared my tea after doing some muscle-stretching and yoga.As it was Sunday, I had seated myself on the balcony and was savoring my cuppa tea.

At that moment, just as I took the first sip, saw Mr Arora, my front door neighbor; bringing his old ferry queen out. It was an old “Padmini” car, a worn out ferry queen you might say.

I was on a ‘Hi-Hello’ terms with him. I waved at him.
He replied with a smile, “Enjoying Sunday??”
I said, “Yes Uncle, Where are you leaving for?”
Mr Arora: “Nowhere, I just drive it on Sundays around the colony, so as to keep it in good working condition.”
I just smiled, finished my tea and came to the hall.I had to go to Delhi that day to meet a few of my friends.Just then I remembered that most of my clothes are with the “Dhobi” and I didn’t have a good pair of clothing to wear.

So I went to “Dhobi” to collect my clothes.When I reached his home, I found clothes hanging all around.His whole house was looking colorful, red, pink, green..like multiple rainbows.
I just yelled his name at his front gate, didn’t want to barge inside.Soon I found him coming to the gate, followed by his son and his old mother.

The 12 year boy was moving along with his grandmother, providing her necessary support to walk.The dhobi gave me 6 rupees change and told with a smile, “Amma ko Sunday ke Sunday thoda ghuma dete hain,verna shareer jam ho jayega”.[We take her out on Sundays for a round around the block, so as to keep her fit].

Mr. Arora and his fiat came to my mind all of a sudden. I smiled, collected my clothes and left thinking…..
Different people, different things to take around!!!
I thanked the person who brought the idea of Sundays!!!

THE VIKRAM

THE VIKRAM,
It is a desi term for a three wheeler customized auto rickshaw not closed from back where people sit facing outwards on a wooden plank.Generally for 4-6 people but in Noida this figure fires up till 15-18 people.


Last Monday, I got ready somewhat earlier for office as the day before I bought a pair of Red tape shoes and lee cooper trousers and I was impatient to put on them on first weekday. I just reached the main traffic road with in 10 minute, from where every colony person catches any public conveyance.

The very common and popular mode of transportation here in Noida are cycle rickshaws, public DTC buses, and the above all Vikram (which always remain full of people and every one just keep struggling for their presence in the vehicle against the all the forces which can chuck them outwards; I can’t tell the nature of the forces whether they are cohesive or adhesive???).

Anyways, I generally go by slower but safer cycle rickshaw instead of those killer machines which can topple on the road any time. The day was sunny after many foggy winter mornings.While waiting, a thought came to calculate worth of my attires that day( learnt form Rahul). One by one, I just estimated worth of all the current belongings (shirt 800, trousers 1100, and shoes hummm 1800….No don’t use your mind, please leave few things :) . Within few minutes found myself worth around 4.5K.
Wow..i was in high spirits.
Felt like a Nawab[ Royal person in India ].
Broadened my shoulders.Hummmm…gals will remain speechless after seeing such a well dressed and handsome guy.

Suddenly a well packed Vikram stopped in front of me, and the guy hanging on its side, stepped down and holded the hand of a rural man in front of me and made him sit on the back side; ignoring what the poor fellow was saying. In next 5 minutes I saw the rear portion of Vikram, where 4 persons were almost popping out including the rural guy, tightly holding anything whatever they could. The scene almost made me laugh .Suddenly I found that somebody had hold my right hand, I was being dragged.
?????
What have I done??
???
Till I could understand I was on the back side of another Vikram running fast on road. I asked the hanging guy ( a sort of conductor for the Vikram) to stop it, but he was smiling at me and said” you will go to JSS na, I know”
?????
I was taken aback, how does he know???

Then I thought .Come-on yaar, 20 minutes journey why to make it an issue to get tensed up, otherwise whole day would be scre***.So I kept quite and tried to be normal.
Vikram was moving at a tolerable pace.Holding pipes, I was seeing outside. Suddenly I saw once again my brand new shoes…
Wow!!!!!!
What an inauguration of it…worth 4.5 K and sitting in a 3 Re Rickshaw among all the sweating countrymen..Great man keep it up…felt a bit frustrated.

I turned my face right, next to me a dark guy with long hair, plastic framed goggles and metal earring... hardly had bathe since birth, was smiling.. great company!!!

Within 10 minutes, it stopped to pack the remaining intermolecular spacings in the Vikram !!!!But started soon thankfully!!

I was looking on the road to freshen the mood.A lot of boards and advertisements.

On each light pole, Hutch or Idea have put their Ads each one with the latest schemes, std 5 paisa less the other one.

Then “Yahan angrezi sharaab milti hai”. [We provide you English Wine]
The Nation still seemed very much obsessed by “Angrezi” [ English]; anyways, a hackneyed way of advertising …I would say.Every one knows that the thing sells in India with a label of “Angrezi”.

Few minutes passed ,suddenly a women inside in sari (I was not able to see her ) asked the driver in Bhojpuri [ a country language] accent, “Bhaiya, jara gaadi roko, bacche ko jara bathroom aa raha hai”[ her child wanted to pee].The auto rickshaw braked and shouted “Arrey Bhen****[slang]….., seat gandi mat kariyo ..“ [Don’t spoil the vehicle]
Great!!!
So this also happens in a 20 -25 minutes journey.
What next??? Chaiwala, samosewala or some midway resort????


Thankfully, it came to life again .I was seeing poster..our own desi Bollywood on a wall , wall with all possible Indian shades. A fair skinned girl with voluptuous figure, with deep necked top.
Things were ready to come out any moment there also, as we were in this vikram.The movie named some “Pyaasi Jawani” .It reminded me some horror memories. It was 1st year when I and Mota went to some Durga talkies for a flick named some “kamsin Jawani”( Mind you every thing in India happens in Jawani only). The so called kamsin Jawani (35 years old buffalo as dark as pan ) came to the minimum clothes (..No yaar no bikini, only blouse and petticoat) in 2nd half. We both were traumatized till next morning .No one could speak while returning to hostel. Thankfully she did not come in my dream ever.

Soon on a crossroad, it stopped due to a traffic jam. Till now i was saturated.Undisturbed, I was seeing out only. Hundred of people, men with bicycles, women having bag on shoulder every one was busy in walking .A hustle all around, to get their bread for the day.

A lot of “Thellas”[movable stall] along the roadside. Then I noticed two children, the 15 year old boy in damaged and dirty clothes was cooking some chapattis and serving it to the pedestrians coming there to have their breakfast and a 10-12 year gal with running nose, probably his sister was cleansing the utensils.Their “Thella” had board with “Pesal Poori Sabzi written on it .Seeing it... I was lost .

In front of the rickshaw, people were shouting, increasing chaos, trucks horns were more irritating. But I cud not get senses, eyes were still fixed to the two children. One person yelled casually “Abe maa mar gayi kya teri, jaldi kar Saale[ a slang] late ho raha hai”.[make it fast ] The poor children paced up their activities.

I was benumb for few seconds, have forgotten my worth, life’s worthiness …
Every thing was seeming worthless .Though I was not seeing the scene first time, but don’t know why I was lost that morning.

Finally the traffic came to life, rickshaw moved again. The two dark eyes of the boy were fixed on me without asking for any kind of help, they had a spark to struggle till Armageddon.
Lot thoughts had suddenly flooded in mind.
Life teaches everybody how to struggle for livelihood!!!
Why doesn’t God treats everybody same???
If I were there, could I be able to work like them??
Am I, a fortunate person??
A voice broke me from it.
I heard,”Sector 62, JSS, JSS”.
I asked the driver to stop the rickshaw.
My voice was choked. Few eyes in the rickshaw followed me.
I got down, paid a 5 Re coin and forgot to take the change; moved straight and stopped at a “Thadi”[ Desi tea stall under a shed..life in the most primitive and original form...best place for any kind of bakar].
Asked “Bhaiyya ek cut dena”[ Gimme a tea].

Those 39Hrs

So I was 30 minutes earlier in the dark foggy night on platform no 5 in Yeshvantpur with my friends..waiting for Sampark Kranti Express to Delhi.

Delhi, from where i was going to give a new turn into my career by joining a new startup company after leaving Infosys.I was full of mixed feelings..unknown about what's stored in my future !!!

It's been more than an year since I was here in Bangalore , far from home. I have enjoyed every bit of this place right from the terrific traffic jams to movies in PVR, treats with Friends,Infy Campus..and above all the never ending, ever lasting "Bakar"( endless chat with lot of spice and not a tinge of malice).

All my friends and roommates had come to see me off. I took a few shots with them (Just a few days back i had uploaded a new roll in my old Yashica to have picture with my friends and teammates, an attempt to capture these moments forever).I was enjoying their company , had a tea.. thats my favorite TimePass ( chai with bakar ..deadly combo, those who don't have tea will go to hell ..yeah i m not kidding ).

35 minutes later i was at the door of AS1 yelling good-byes to my friends .. friends with whom i enjoyed a lot..and who never let me feel homesick..

Then i checked my coach ..no chik ..as usual( i was reminded of a theorem, it goes something like ..if you are a good guy with normal looks and are traveling in train ,you will never find a gorgeous chik in your coach, and if you still manage to find one, it won't be anywhere near your berth and if still she is near you , she won't see you....Arrey yaar it’s a "Hence Proved" theorem...)
Finally settled..at my berth..next to me was a dark complexioned man with stern looks...I came to know in next 5 minutes that he was a Lieutenant .He started talk with me,told me about his training in Dehradoon and how his colonel father was happy for what he chose as a career...his home in Bangalore.I found him different from normal army personnel who more or less are rude and find themselves the only service men to the Nation and hate civilians for taking life so casually or without discipline.

Then he asked about me ..i too told him about my ancestral history of armed forces..how my grandfather and his brothers served in Army....

While i was busy talking to Lt. Tulsi, I caught a glimpse of her..yeah i caught the look of the girl who was on the upper birth(vertically opposite to me..)She was looking at me…normal looks ..but still her presence gave me some confidence that at least i got something to pass this boring journey..and to flirt with..Then i told Mr. Tulsi about my software and Infosys ..(A failed attempt to impress her huh....)..whatever..i found our eyes meeting each other for few moments ..
yeah she was normal looking ..but getting interested a little bit..and when i told him about my native place ..that i belong to Bikaner ..She jumped out of her bed and ....no no nothing special ....it never happens yaarShe told me that she too belonged to Bikaner(so that was the reason..uffo..but still right target with wrong weapon.. :)

So Mr. Tulsi was now out and she was in..i mean in conversation yaar..So gradually so many acquaintances came out and finally we found out some bonding...or connection as usual(..my classmate's uncle's sister in laws' friend's elder brother's sister in law..and the connection went on...probably longer and more complexed than schrodinger's equation..)

Now all the old champions( 35 and more) of the compartment were eying me as i have stolen something which belonged to them not to me..or if they were cursing that ..today's generation is out of control..forgotten all values..so we chatted and chatted..don't know what time she went to her berth ..

Next day while lunch and dinner .. we again discussed a lot ..lot about Bikaner..careers..she was pursuing Engg. from some private college in Bangalore..i don't know how did we become so much familiar easily..We had met for the first time and it was like that we have known each other for long .....I told her things which i probably haven't told to few of my very close friends not because i didn't want to but i never got chance to discuss them..they came out themselves..right from childhood stupidities to adolescent crushes,college life,ragging , absurd philosophies, meaning of life, aims of life and a lot more..

Now with her company i could pass time easily. Probably she also found the same motive,otherwise i rarely remember the moments when a girl herself initiated conversation with me. When we did not talk it was our eyes which met each other and then we smiled in sync.( i don't know why profs don't illustrate this example of resonance in college....)

So the finally the train reached Nizamuddin...She once asked me where i was going and then i was willing to say wherever you want let me to come with...but could not....I did not want to say bye to her..but it always happens;and finally we parted.

So now i waved at her with a hope of meeting again;gave my e-mail id( usual parting rituals ..)and finally moved away. One thing i believe is that this world is small and life is too long;and this is the thing which consoles me while parting from any dear one.

I jumped out of coach for coolie ...for Delhi i already had prenotion that this city is too much for me to handle easily,a coolie agreed for 80 bugs for 5 items ..he came with an auto driver who was asking for 350 bucks from Nizamuddin to Noida,the place where i have to shift finally..I found it too much so denied..but that taxi driver followed me..I asked the coolie to move to the prepaid counter.

Suddenly as we moved ahead..2 TTs stopped and asked me for the ticket,i provided it to them. He said that it seemed if i got more luggage than the allowed limit on a single ticket,so he put it on the weighing machine…and asked me to enter a Re 1 coin in it.. which I did with my fast pounding heart…it came with 52 Kgs. The TT grinned with all the wickedness of this universe,saw his reference pocket ruling book and told me that its 12 kg extra.

So it is 600 bugs fine…I was ready for it so started my drama.

"Sir i am a student ..please sir..no job..
books ka weight hai Sir ..plzzz..i left my PC due to weight reasons only.."
It didn't take much time and they both finally came down to 200 bucks.
I was feeling victorious..happy...elated..they asked me to give it to a "kulfi wala thela" and whispered in the kulfi wala's to take money from me.

So i just handed two 100 Re notes to him,and finally got some relief..

I thanked them and asked to coolie to come with me...that auto wala was still following me. After 10 minutes coolie asked me.."Sahib why did you pay those bas**rds 200 bugs, when 50 Kg is allowed in the 3 tier AC"....


...Shit...What??
??????????
Ohh shit yaar
???
Why dint he tell me earlier??
???
Arrey yaar..Not again....
!!!!!!!!!!!!
I was in shock...stood still on stairs for few moments ..those 2 bast**ds were out of sight now..
Within few minutes i got sense with the railway announcement "Welcome to Delhi"
..f***ing CITY OF CORRUPTION.. i said to myself .. :)